


Twigs and tape

by themegalosaurus



Series: SPN episode codas [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sam Winchester, Angst, Gen, Possession, Post-Episode: s12e20 Twigs and Twine and Tasha Banes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16837531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themegalosaurus/pseuds/themegalosaurus
Summary: Coda to 12x20. It's months until they hear from Max.





	Twigs and tape

It’s months until they hear from Max. Sam messages him a couple times but when he gets no response, he leaves it. He can see why Max might not want to know. It was Sam, after all, alone in the room with Alicia when - well. Maybe Max thinks that Sam could have done more. Maybe he isn’t thinking much of anything. Sam remembers himself, after Dean died, strung out and desperate on drink and drugs. He’s worried. But he doesn’t know what else to do. And then other stuff happens, big stuff with Cas and Kellie and Mom, and Max slides gradually toward the back of Sam’s mind.

Ten months later they’re in Ohio hunting a skinwalker and Sam hears a familiar voice cut through the noise of the bar. He looks up to see Max, looking pretty healthy all told, and he’s already raised his hand and his voice in greeting when Max steps sideways and Sam sees Alicia behind.

Oh, God.

Max’s face shutters over when he catches Sam’s eye, his jaw tensing stubborn. He shakes his head. Sam nods towards the back door; meets Max two minutes later in the alley.

“Max,” he says, low and reproachful, and Max says, “What could I do?”

Sam wants to cry. Max is only a kid. And it isn’t like Sam and Dean have a stellar record in terms of dealing well with loss. But this particular situation… it’s buzzing hot in his mind, insistent pressure like there’s something squeezing out against the walls of his skull.

“Does she know?” he says.

Max’s eyes slide sideways.

“You gotta tell her,” Sam says, hoarse. “You got to, Max.”

“I know,” Max says. “But I don’t…” He’s welling up, bottom lip shaking though he’s trying to be tough. “I don’t know what to say to her any more. I have to tell her. She’s pissed with me most of the time because I’m acting weird. But I don’t… how do you tell someone that they’re not real? That they’re not… she’s gonna be so mad at me.”

“No,” Sam says. “No. You gotta tell her. It’s her. You gotta tell her. You have to, man.”

“I can’t,” says Max, and before Sam knows it he’s got his arm across Max’s neck and he’s slammed him back into the wall.

Max’s feet are barely touching the ground, scrabbling frantic and Sam says, “Don’t give me that shit.” He says, “You should have told her ten months ago. Max. Jesus. How’s she gonna… how are you going to go on when she knows how long you lied?”

“I don’t wanna lose her,” Max says. “She’ll leave.”

“Fuck, man,” Sam says. “If you don’t tell her then she’d be better off gone. How can she trust anything, if she can’t trust you?”

Max is crying properly now, snotty, and Sam lets him down, staggers backward and watches through blurry eyes as Max bends over with a hand on the wall behind him, breathes deep, composes himself, straightens up. He swallows, nods.

“You’re right,” he says. “I will. I’ll tell her.”

“Yeah,” says Sam. “Because if you don’t, I will.”

Max tenses up at that, shoots Sam a look with violet eyes, then rubs a hand down over his face. “I got it,” he says. He lingers for a moment, mouth open in an unspoken question, but in the end he doesn’t ask it. Instead, he turns and goes back into the bar.

Sam’s left in the alley. He should go back in. He will. But he’s thinking about Alicia, poor doll-Alicia, twigs and twine and memories and that’s all she is. What a thing to learn. Cas would say it was an interesting philosophical question, Alicia’s humanity, her identity with her self. Sam might choose another adjective. Duct tape and safety pins, he thinks.


End file.
